


The Mountain's Gonna Sing

by Ev3rMichelle



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Author knows nothing about West Virgina, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirty Talk, Duck Tape Bar & Grill (Logan Lucky), Eventual HEA, Eventual Smut, F/M, High school relationship, I mean LOOSELY, Light Angst, Memories, Mutual Pining, No Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Parents aren't always the best, Size Kink, Spanking, Time Skips, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, When I say loosely, happy ever after, loosely based on Persuasion, mentions of amputation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29750502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ev3rMichelle/pseuds/Ev3rMichelle
Summary: Rey left everything behind in Madison when her parents forced her to choose college over her high school boyfriend.Clyde never left--not really.A lot can change in ten years...but then again, a lot can stay the same.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 28
Collections: Clyde Loves Books Fic Exchange





	1. Somehow There's Still the Strength to Carry On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duelingaxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duelingaxis/gifts).



> Gifting this fic to the incredible [Axis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duelingaxis)\--PLEASE read her fics, everything is amaaaaazing. 
> 
> Insane amount of thanks to the ladies of the Clyde Loves Books Exchange--it's been hilarious and so much fun thirsting over Clyde with y'all. <3
> 
> Love and adoration to my beta, who I've dragged into loving Clyde enough to read this fic for me. Love you, [Els.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegyGoldsmith)

Rey pushed the button to lower the window as her foot moved to the brake, slowing the car as she wound her way through the forests of Appalachia. The humid air felt cool on her cheeks, the forest’s scent both familiar and utterly foreign after so many years living in cities that could hold Madison, West Virginia within a single neighborhood. 

Her mind wandered as she drove the once-familiar roads, every mile closer to town overlaid with memories. 

───

_ Her first day of high school at Scott High, gangly and so nervous that she tripped up the stairs on her way to Algebra. The dark-haired boy she sat next to in English who nodded toward her newly-bruised shins and muttered, “looks like they hurt somethin’ fierce,” before introducing himself.  _

_ *** _

_ Innocent kisses a year later under the chestnut tree in her backyard with the boy from English class, before he pulled out a pocketknife and carefully carved their initials in the thick, furrowed bark. He slowly traced a heart around the letters, saying, “We’ll be here, together, Rey-bug.” Rey reached out and traced the carving, brushing away bits of bark as her finger lingered over the  _ **CL** _ that nearly disappeared into the wood. “Ya just gotta know where ta look.” _

_ *** _

_ Watching the way her adoptive parents looked at Clyde when they thought she couldn’t see, whispering urgently to each other when they thought she couldn’t hear. The remarks that always started out too casual: “Rey, remember you’re going to college in a year,” or “You wouldn’t want to be stuck in Boone County forever, darling.” Withdrawing after those talks, sullen and moody, her heart aching at the idea of leaving Madison — at leaving Clyde — even though leaving for college was what she was  _ supposed _ to want. _

_ *** _

_ The awkward fumbling that turned into losing her virginity on a blanket by a hidden pond, off an old logging road. Rey intent on soaking up the sun on the faded patchwork quilt, and Clyde intent on soaking up every ounce of Rey that he could. The pinch and stretch that quickly faded, the awe and amazement she could hear in Clyde’s whispered words, the lump in her throat as her body clenched down around him under the late afternoon sun. _

_ *** _

_ Moments of quiet, his hand engulfing her tiny one as he walked her home after school. Sharing secrets, hopes, and dreams. Clyde shyly mumbling that he loved her as he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. Pulling away only to press her lips to his before telling him she loved him, too.  _

_ *** _

_ Staring at the dining table as her parents told her they were moving out of Madison. That they’d pay for college only if she chose pre-med. Saying they wanted the best for her, only the best, only to take her away from Clyde and the home she adored. Picking sides between her parents — the people who chose her as an abandoned child, the family who gave her everything — and the boy from a small town in the middle of nowhere. The boy she loved. _

_ *** _

_ Tears flowing down her cheeks in salty rivers as she told Clyde that they were leaving. That she’d be starting college in Chicago in the fall. That they could write, but that she was going to be a doctor.  _

_ His voice breaking as he asked her, “Is that even what you want, Rey-bug?” _

_ How she was unable to answer him or look at him, knowing she’d see her own pain echoed in his eyes. _

───

The radio switched to static without warning, the quiet hum of a country crooner erased by loud white noise. Rey was startled out of her memories as the tall pines of the forest made way for cultivated magnolias and autumn olives, the scents perfume-sweet.

She tried to ease her tension as the town neared, her shoulders relaxing at the same time as anxious butterflies found a home in her stomach; she’d made it back to Madison, but the last ten years had changed her. Maybe they’d changed Madison, too.

She passed the high school, the playground where only a few children braved the middle-of-the-day southern heat to play on the swingset, the cafe, and the Grocery Castle— all recognizable from her high school days. Turning down the main street, Rey eyed more recent additions: a vintage shop with a fresh coat of paint, an ice cream parlour, and a coffee shop. 

She eased her car past the hotel where she had a reservation, on the second floor of an old brick building, above an insurance office. She took the third right, and then the first left past the water tower, slowing in front of a house that had clearly seen better days. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she got out of the car, unsticking her hair from the back of her sweaty neck as she approached. 

The old farmhouse must’ve been impressive once, a splash of white amidst the rolling green of the fields that surrounded it. Time hadn’t been kind to the structure; paint was peeling off the clapboard siding in sheets, the porch had a distinct slope to it, and the once-picturesque windows looked as though they’d been used as target practice for a sloppy game of catch. 

The butterflies swarmed in her belly, and Rey swallowed hard to keep tears from springing to her eyes as she realized that the tree that had shaded her bedroom — the chestnut that Clyde had carved their initials in all those years ago — was gone. Just a stump remained, a few empty beer bottles scattered near the roots. 

This house had once been a home. It held her most cherished memories while reminding her of her most devastating heartbreak in equal measure. 

There was nothing for her here. She turned back to her car, eager to put the disappointment in seeing the neglected home behind her. 

───

An hour later, Rey found herself sitting on the bed in the hotel room she’d booked for the next two weeks. The look on her face must have been unpleasant when the man behind the front desk drawled, “Tha AC was on its way to broken, but it works — f’now,” because he sheepishly helped her drag her suitcase, duffel, and laptop up the skinny flight of stairs before depositing them next to her bed and closing the door behind him with a quiet, “Sorry, ma’am.”

Rey peeled off her t-shirt, intent on taking a lukewarm soak in the dated bathroom’s tub as she scrolled through her mental to-do list. 

_ Item One: Get to Madison, West Virginia. _ Check. 

The rest of her clothes went the same way as her shirt, and she padded into the bathroom, flipping the switch on and turning the taps until the water was the perfect temperature.

_ Item Two: Get a good night’s sleep. _ Potentially debatable. She’d tried out the bed after putting her clothes in the closet, and immediately sat up again; the scratchy comforter and lumpy mattress didn’t bode well for sleep. 

Rey’s toes met the water, and she groaned. She could literally feel the heat of the day and the stress of the drive easing their way out of her body. She settled against the back of the porcelain tub, dunking a washcloth under the water before wringing it out and putting it over her eyes.

_ Item Three: Meet Sylvia in person at the medical center.  _ That, fortunately, was a problem for tomorrow. She’d been exchanging emails with the clinic’s director for months now, ever since Rey applied to the program that would pay back her school loans if she worked in an “underserved community” for two years. It was the only way that Rey would be able to afford to pay rent  _ and  _ eat while also using her degree— and she counted every lucky star she could think of that her request to be placed in rural West Virginia had been approved. 

_ Item Four: Find a place to live.  _

Rey mentally forced  _ this _ to be the fourth item on her list—arguably it was important, maybe even the most important—but that didn’t stop a tiny voice inside from whispering intently,  _ “Item Five — find Clyde.”  _

───

Clyde was a simple man, and always had been. He made it through small town high school, the Army, and ‘cauliflower’ incidents by keeping his head down, following orders, and doing his best not to step out of line. He was focused. Not necessarily driven or ambitious, and not particularly content—but he had most everything he needed, and he knew people had it worse off than him. 

_ Yes _ , he thought as he wiped the counter at the Duck Tape like he did every night for the past five years,  _ everything I need.  _

_ But not everything I want. _

He wasn’t even sure when it happened; he couldn’t pinpoint the precise moment he’d fallen in love with Rey. 

───

_ Getting paired up with her for an English project—forced to sit close together to share a single book by an English author he’s long since forgotten. He was close enough to smell her shampoo, waves of strawberries floating the small distance between them. His mumbles with stretched-out syllables, so different from her precise accent, drew out her shy smile until something he said made her throw her head back and laugh. _

_ *** _

_ Nervously asking her to the Homecoming game, and then sitting on the bleachers watching his brother run up and down the field like a damn coonhound fixing to chase a raccoon. Rey didn’t understand American football, so he kept up with explaining as best as he could, even if his interest was split between the actual game and Rey’s face. Her nose was starting to turn pink from the wind, and her hat covered her ears enough that she had to scoot closer and closer to Clyde to be able to hear him over the roar of the crowd.  _

_ At halftime, she pulled him by the hand towards the popcorn stand. And there, standing in line with Bobbie Jo and Mellie and Hunter from biology, she stood on her tiptoes and tugged him down for a kiss. If he thought about it hard enough, he could probably still taste her chapstick—coconut.  _

_ That was the game that Jimmy busted his knee, and Clyde spent the night at the hospital with him instead of with Rey, listening to music he didn’t recognize in the school gym.  _ Just as well _ , he figured.  _

He’d probably be too shy to ask her to dance, anyway. 

_ *** _

_ Trying to ignore the looks he knew her parents gave him behind his back. He knew for a fact that he wasn’t good enough for Rey—a simple kid from a small town. No one in Madison’d ever been good enough for the Niimas. Rey’s dad brought the family to West Virginia after he got a job managing one of the nearby coal plants, and he’d brag about one of his fancy degrees to anyone who’d listen.  _ Yale _ , he’d say smugly, expecting a reaction more than slight disinterest and disdain, which is all he ever got.  _

_ While Rey acclimated to small-town life, her parents looked down on everyone. It didn’t bother him, though. He was sure he loved her enough, and if he just kept on loving her, then her parents had to come around someday. _

_ *** _

_ Surprising Rey was one of his favorite things. She always reacted with complete glee, flinging her arms around his neck and pressing hot kisses into his skin before whispering that she loved him. Once, he set up a movie theater in the back of his daddy’s old pickup for her. Pillows and blankets were piled in the bed of the truck, and he strung a sheet across a clothesline behind his family’s house. Mellie helped him sneak an old film projector from the AV closet at school, and the two of them spent hours laughing at old movies. When the last sheet of film ran through the machine, Clyde rolled her under him and they made love to the sound of cicadas and the quiet whirr of the projector cooling down.  _

_ *** _

_ He made promises to her—promises that he intended to keep, even if he was just eighteen and still in high school. He’d build her a house, he said. Big enough for the two of them, and he’d plant her a garden. Or they’d get an apartment together, maybe in Atlanta or Nashville. Start their lives together somewhere new. They could get in his truck and drive, no destination in sight. He always wanted to see the ocean, and they could drive West instead of East, cross the Rockies and keep going until their toes were in the hot sand of Southern California.  _

_ It didn’t matter to Clyde where they were, so long as they were together.  _

_ *** _

_ Trying to make plans with his advisors at school, as if his entire life didn’t revolve around the girl whose hand he held after school with dimples that lit up his world. Their concern as he brushed off their advice about ‘backup plans’ and reminders about college application deadlines. None of that mattered, he had Rey.  _

_ *** _

_ Walking home in the rain after Rey told her that her parents were taking her away. They wouldn’t pay for college if she wasn’t pre-med, she told him, and she was accepted at a school in Chicago. He didn’t understand at first, nodding along—mentally calculating how much gas he’d need to fill his truck to follow her. He’d heard it was expensive there, but surely he could find a job and afford a small apartment while she was at school. They could live together—he’d cook for her while she studied at their kitchen table, the light shining in through the windows to illuminate her face.  _

_ How her face fell, shoulders shaking as she sobbed that he couldn’t come with her, that her parents forbade it. That this was to be the end of them. That she still loved him, desperately, but her parents were the ones who adopted her when no one else did, that they were giving her everything. That she’d be a doctor.  _

_ And all Clyde could think was that it was a dream she’d never told him she had _ . 

_ “Ya don’t…” Clyde swallowed hard, surprised to see a tear drop onto the back of his hand as he clutched hers. He started again. “Ya don’t love me anymore?”  _

_ He’d remember her anguished whisper for the rest of his life. “Clyde, sometimes love isn’t enough.”  _

_ So, he walked away. He could give her that dream, even if it meant walking away. It was obviously close to her heart if she didn’t tell him about it, and he  _ did _ say that he wanted to give her everything. So, he watched through the window of his truck as her dad drove a U-Haul away from the clapboard farmhouse that Rey loved, and that afternoon he signed his name on a dotted line and was given his first orders from the U.S. Army.  _

_ *** _

The bell above the door jangled as Earl wandered through, and Clyde was brought out of his memories, giving the older man a half-assed, “Hey” as he reached for the bottle opener to pop the top off of a beer. 

It was second nature now, not to reach for things with his left hand—at least not things that were small or fiddly like so many tools behind a bar were. It had been five years since Clyde lost his forearm, and it had taken nearly all of those five years before he was comfortable with his various prosthetics. The one he got after ‘the job’ was fancy—probably fancier than he deserved, all things considered, but it made life easier, and it irritated his skin less than the other ones had. 

Clyde turned away from the bar after passing the bottle to Earl, trying to shake the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn’t think of Rey often anymore. She was pushed to the back of his mind that he thought of as “before.” Before the Army; before his accident; before prosthetics and cauliflower jobs and the Duck Tape. 

It was better to not think about things from back then. He hadn’t really tried to move on with his life after high school, and he admitted it. The Army was a logical choice for a kid from a small town with no money to fall back on. His injury was because of the Army; and he bought the Duck Tape with his disability money. If he hadn’t been behind the bar the night Chilblain came in, Jimmy wouldn’t have hollered ‘cauliflower’ across the parking lot. There wouldn’t have been any jail visits to Joe Bang, or his own jail stint, for that matter. He wouldn’t have a stash of cash in a series of crates under the floorboards of his double-wide. 

Clyde scoffed.  _ Just think. None of this woulda happened if Rey hadn’t left me when we were eighteen.  _ His life was a series of seemingly inevitable steps from the moment he joined the Army. 

He would never admit it out loud—Mellie would never let him hear the end of it—but at night, when he lay alone in his bed, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. Making up stories that began when a shaggy-haired boy met a girl with bruises on her shins, and ended with the boy at the end of a church aisle, shyly smiling at the girl whose dimples flipped his world upside down. 

Maybe love wasn’t enough for Rey, he thought. But it always was enough for Clyde. 


	2. See What Remains of All We've Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended to get this out earlier, but to be honest, real life is kind of kicking my ass right now, so I'm not sure when the third and fourth chapters will be posted (or, well...written, if I'm being honest). Don't worry, I absolutely WILL finish the fic, it's outlined and everything--I wouldn't leave Clyde and Rey apart, I promise. :) 
> 
> Thanks to my beta (as always), [Els](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegyGoldsmith). Couldn't do this without you, and wouldn't want to.

A few days later saw Rey acclimating back to the slower pace of small-town West Virginia.

Sleeping late on the uncomfortable mattress was an exercise in futility, so Rey pulled on her favorite pair of running tights in the early morning stillness, taking herself on a five-mile run to reacquaint herself with Madison. Careful to avoid the street that the Logans used to live on, she scouted a few rental houses available within walking distance of the medical clinic where she’d be working, before looping back around to the hotel for a quick shower.

Once she finished fighting a losing battle with the water pressure, Rey towel-dried her hair, leaving it to dry around her shoulders in the late summer humidity. After fishing a mangled protein bar out from the bottom of her purse, she headed down to the lobby, skirting around the man behind the front desk who decided to choose that moment to wrestle a box of extension cords from under the counter. 

The walk to the clinic was a great way to focus her mind, and Rey quickly categorized her thoughts into  _ “Clyde”  _ and  _ “Not Clyde,” _ mentally trying to convince herself that the only reason she’d returned to Madison was to bring better healthcare to the rural population of Appalachia. 

It turned out that she needn’t have bothered. There wasn’t a moment for Rey to think with Sylvia chattering to her about the day-to-day running of the clinic, how they recently leased the building space because they needed more room in addition to the mobile unit, and did Rey know that they’d be hosting a vaccination clinic before school began in a few weeks? 

The morning flew by, and by the time Rey’s stomach was audibly letting her (and everyone in the vicinity) know that it was approaching lunchtime, the storage closet she’d been stocking was bursting with supplies. 

Sylvia suggested lunch at the cafe on Main, and not thirty minutes later they were shown to a booth in the corner. A heavyset waitress set two tall glasses of iced tea on the table in front of the women, and rattled off the specials as if she had been saying them every day for years—which, Rey considered, she probably had been. 

It seemed that Sylvia had managed to hold her questions as long as she could, and as soon as Rey scooped up an enormous bite of biscuits and gravy and shoved it messily in her mouth, her new boss chose that moment for a little ‘get-to-know-you’ chat.

“So, Miss Rey,” she began, peering over the rim of her glass, “I saw on your paperwork that you grew up here?”

Rey froze, the previously delicious biscuit and gravy turning into paste on her tongue. She swallowed and gave a cautious nod. 

“I, ah...I came here with my family when I was in high school. We left after I graduated.” A long drink of iced tea didn’t seem like enough to wash down the lump building in her throat.  _ Just idle gossip, the town busybodies don’t get enough of it, and a girl leaving Boone County, just to return, would keep them fed for days. _

“I think I remember you, ya know? Or at least, I remember your parents. Y’all lived down off of Burton, in the old farmhouse?” 

Rey met Sylvia’s eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I drove by the house on the way into town yesterday—it looked different than I remember.” She paused, eyes flicking out the window as if she could see into the past. “Then again, I suppose a lot of things are different, now.”

“You were seeing the younger Logan boy, weren’t you? Long distance is hard—that why y’all broke it off when you went to college?” 

Rey’s fingers slipped on the fork she was balancing, and it clattered off the plate and onto the table. She settled the silverware back on the plate and reached for her glass, taking a long drink to delay answering. “Something like that, yeah.” 

If Sylvia noticed how Rey withdrew into herself, she didn’t mention it, seemingly perfectly content to carry on the conversation until they shut the cafe door behind them. She gave Rey a quick pat on the shoulder, saying, “We did good work this morning, take the afternoon off and get yourself settled. See ya tomorrow, bright and early!” And with a cheerful wave behind her, Sylvia strode off down the street, leaving Rey alone on the sidewalk.

It was luck, Rey thought, that she was able to flip the AC unit on in her hotel room and feel a cool breeze on her face—a rather slow-moving breeze, but a breeze nonetheless. Maybe the fact that the machine hadn’t quite given up yet was a sign that things would be looking up. After all, she had a job, a car, she’d find a place to live...pretty soon, she’d be settled in. 

And once she felt settled, she could decide what there was to be done with the image of Clyde Logan that she’d built up in her head for the past decade. Was he even in Madison still? What if he left like she had—maybe married, had a family of his own? And if he was here, would he want to see her? The guilt Rey felt for following her parents and leaving Clyde behind was suffocating, and she thought that if theirs positions were switched, she probably wouldn’t want to see the boy who left her behind. 

Rey curled up on the mattress and turned the TV on, feeling beyond ready to spend a few mindless hours watching questionable television. 

She awoke a few hours later, stiff-necked and sore, her face smashed into the pillow and a celebrity chef gushing about the ‘most delicious garden tomatoes’ that  _ had  _ to be used for her husband’s favorite marinara sauce. Rey rolled her eyes and muttered, ‘store-bought is  _ just fine _ ’ as she stretched and thumbed the remote until the picture faded from the old TV screen.

Not knowing anyone left in Madison, Rey decided she’d treat herself to a drink and dinner at the bar she passed outside of town. Surely even the most rural of bars could offer a well-made gin and tonic, after all. 

Rey pulled open the chest of drawers at the foot of the bed and began to sort through her options.  _ What’s the right outfit for ‘I’m not trying to impress anyone, but if I happen to see my high school sweetheart, I still want to look great?’ _

The sun was still shining bright, the late summer weather holding on for dear life before the cooler autumn nights took over, and Rey decided to take advantage of the heat, pulling out an outfit that always gave her an extra boost of confidence.

After she dragged her hair into a messy bun and pulled on a pair of casual sneakers, Rey finished her look off with a few coats of mascara and a swipe of berry-tinted lipstick before checking herself in the closet mirror. 

Rey threw a denim jacket over her shoulders, and she hurried down the stairs, already looking forward to a cold drink and a filling dinner. 

Hissing in shock when the back of her thighs hit the hot leather seat of her car, Rey quickly started the engine and cranked the AC to maximum, rolling down the windows to circulate air in the meantime. The drive to the bar shouldn’t take more than five minutes, but it was five minutes too long when you were in a car that had been sitting in a parking lot in full sunlight. 

She absently fiddled with the radio dials, finally landing on a station that put out more music than static, and quietly sang along as she started down the street to the bar.

_ “Take me home, country road…” _

***

Half an hour later saw Rey being treated to dinner and a show—if one went by the loosest possible definition of the word ‘show’.

Dinner turned out to be an enormous hamburger served alongside a basket of fries laid on paper that had gone nearly translucent with grease. The kid behind the counter looked barely old enough to work in a bar, but sure enough, five minutes after she ordered her long-awaited gin and tonic he shuffled over and set a perfectly cold glass on a coaster at her elbow. A sigh escaped Rey’s lips after the first sip, the tart flavor of lime on her tongue sending a shiver down her spine. 

The show...the show was  _ something _ else. 

A trio of women around her age were sitting two tables away, and as more drinks were placed in front of them, the louder their conversation had gotten. Rey couldn’t help but eavesdrop—a large part of her wistfully wished for the easy camaraderie of a close-knit group of girlfriends. 

“Macy, I  _ know.  _ Lauren told me that, too, but I don’ wanna believe it. You  _ know _ how she gets when she’s—“ the woman pinched her thumb and forefinger by her pursed lips, suggesting Lauren smoked just a  _ little _ too much.

“Mmhmm, girl, I know. But y’all know I heard the same thing from Ashley, before she done moved to Chattanooga. He don’t call anyone after, though. Love ‘em and leave ‘em!” The blonde who must’ve been Macy leaned precariously in her chair, peering this way and that like she was looking for someone in particular before turning her attention back to her drink.

The third woman piped up from behind a margarita glass, “I heard it from Ashley, too. It’s gotta be common knowledge by now.” She slurped the last of her drink up and continued, “Not only is he particularly—“ she tried to quiet her voice, but Rey could still hear everything loud and clear, “— _ well endowed, _ Ashley said he knew exactly how to get her there, if y’all know what I’m sayin’. I don’t even care that he’s only got one arm left—the arm ain’t the part I’m wonderin’ about.”

The women hooted and hollered, doing little dances in their chairs to express just how excited they were at this juicy tidbit of gossip. Rey giggled to herself, enjoying being a fly on the wall for the girls’ chat. She mentally painted herself as a part of their trio, imagining herself chiming in during a lull in their conversation. 

She dragged a French fry slowly through a mound of ketchup, wondering if this is what she could have had if she hadn't left West Virginia—a tipsy night out with her best girlfriends before returning to Clyde and the home they shared.

The conversation picked up again, the loudest girl turning in her chair before practically shouting, “Where is he, anyway? He owns the place, you’d think he’d be the one runnin’ it. How’s anyone meant to see for themselves if he ain’t  _ here? _ ” 

The shrieks from the women were borderline ear-splitting, and Rey wasn’t sure if she should laugh along with them or feel sorry for the guy. Whoever the poor man is who owns the bar, he’s got a fan club particularly devoted to his—

“I just wanna know if we’re talkin’ Andouille or kielbasa,” the redhead announced with a flick of her hair as she stood up. “A toast, ladies.” The women got to their feet, lifting their glasses.

“To Clyde Logan, and his enormous—“

**CRASH.**

Rey’ glass hit the wood floor and shattered, her body jerking in shock as she realized exactly who the women were talking about. 

Clyde Logan.

Owns the bar. 

Only one arm. 

Enormous—she knew that aspect  _ personally _ . 

Rey flushed and scrambled for a napkin, trying to sop up the lime-scented liquor that had splashed her legs as everyone in the bar turned to look at her and the mess she made. 

A towel pressed into her hand, and a voice she hadn’t heard in years cut through the embarrassed buzzing in her ears.

“Careful, Rey-Bug. Ya don’t wanna cut yourself on any glass, now. Lemme handle it.”

Clyde Logan. 

───

Clyde made sure he was in the storeroom of the Duck Tape when the girls at table six started getting rowdy. He didn’t need to hear any speculation about any part of his body, no matter how positive it was; his ears would get red and he’d stammer, and then those girls would have even more reason to giggle at him. 

Unfortunately, the kid he hired to work behind the counter a few nights a week wasn’t entirely up to Clyde’s standards, so he couldn’t hide for too long, and he lumbered down the hall just in time to see Ashley stand on wobbly heels and announce to the entire bar— _ his  _ damn bar—that his dick was—

She never got to complete her ode, though, because the sound of shattering glass turned everyone’s attention to the brunette woman sitting alone in the corner, and Clyde’s vision tunneled. 

_ Rey _ .

He blinked and shook his head, like his brain was an Etch-a-Sketch and he was trying to remove what had to be a hallucination.

But she was still there, and for a moment that felt like forever, he drank her in.

Long legs, short shorts, tiny little tank top that made his mouth water. Her hair was different now, shorter and with lighter streaks in it that made Clyde think of sunbeams. He wondered if she still smelled the same; like the sugar and vanilla lotion that she wore in high school. 

She hadn’t noticed him, but when he realized that she was about to bend over and pick up the shards glass off the floor, he whipped his bar towel from over his shoulder, and strode over to her, placing it in her hand before bending low and murmuring in her ear. 

The moment their eyes met, the bar around them—the girls two tables over, the men playing darts, Earl—all disappeared, and it was like time rewound and they were still in high school together. 

Just two kids who had no idea what their future had in store, and who only had eyes for each other in a crowded high school cafeteria. 

The dull  _ thwack _ of a dart hitting the dart board spurred everyone back into motion—the men clearly had gone back to their game, while the women sat back down and tried to seem like they weren’t trying to keep an eye on Rey and Clyde just a few feet away. 

Clyde had never been more grateful that he hired the son-of-a-friend-of-Jimmy’s than he was at that precise moment, because he was able to nod at the kid in a  _ clean this up, I’ll be outside _ way before turning to Rey and gesturing toward the front door. Her eyes never strayed from his face as she blindly reached for her purse straps before following Clyde out to the front porch — and they sank down into the deep seats of the Adirondack chairs Clyde had picked up two towns over. 

“Whatcha doin’ back here, then?” Clyde picked at a loose thread on his shorts as he spoke, unable to look in her direction. He was too shy— _ shy _ , as if he hadn't stared at her for what must have been at least a few hundred hours, all told.

“I ah—I got a job. At the medical clinic.” 

“So you did it, then. You’re a doctor, like you wanted?” 

“Sort of. I’m a nurse, so nearly, I guess.”

He nodded slowly, unsure what to say, and even less sure about how he was supposed to feel. Rey had left him to become a doctor; that was supposed to have been her big dream. Now, finding out that she hadn’t become a doctor, but she hadn’t come back for him either...that stung more than he’d like to admit, even ten years later. 

“Your parents. Uh, they must be mighty proud, then.” Clyde scratched his chin with his right hand, and he saw her eyes follow the motion of his arm back to his lap where it met with his prosthetic. He hastily shifted, squeezing his left arm between the armrest and his hip before looking expectantly at Rey. 

She laughed, a short harsh sound that echoed around the shabby porch. “Let’s just say that they’re less than impressed that I didn’t become exactly who they wanted me to be.”

“They always did have a plan and a particular way of doin’ things,” Clyde drawled, trying to get comfortable in the chair while also keeping his damned fancy fake arm out of her line of sight and hopefully out of conversation. He didn’t exactly  _ mind _ when people wanted to look at the metal contraption, but covering the events of the past decade with the girl who set them all in motion still seemed too raw, too new. Even if he didn’t blame her for what happened to him—he’d had too much therapy at the VA to follow that line of thinking—he was certain that if she had stayed, he would never have joined the Army in the first place. 

Rey hummed in agreement, and their conversation fell before she spoke again. 

“How—how are you, Clyde? It’s really good to see you.” 

Clyde chewed on his lip anxiously, worrying it between his teeth while he thought of what to say. 

Because what  _ could  _ he say? 

That he’d missed her, loved her, all these years? It was the truth, an ugly, unspoken thing hanging over his head — and he was positive that if ever there was a right time to tell her, it definitely wasn’t then. 

He could lie instead. Paint a picture with stories about a simple, happy life with his family and friends. How well his bar was going, his new truck… Hell, he could even make up a girl if he wanted, someone permanent and unlike the few women he brought home, only for a night. 

But Clyde didn’t lie. Not really. 

“‘M fine, thanks. Been doin’ ok.”

“Really?” She leaned closer, her hand reaching out as if to rest on his forearm. Clyde drew in a quick breath, and she quickly pulled back, letting her hand fall back in her lap. 

“You seem—“

He couldn’t let her say a word, not when he wasn’t sure what was going to come out of her mouth, unsure if it would send him spiraling into sadness, or worse—hope. 

“Rey.” He interrupted, his gruff voice quiet but sure in the nighttime stillness. “I’m not the same kid you left behind. Things are...well, things are different now.” 

Her body stiffened at the reminder of her leaving, and she shifted in her seat, twisting the straps of her purse between her fingers. Clyde could see her swallow heavily before she whispered her agreement, “Things really  _ are _ different now.”

They lapsed into silence, which was only broken by an insistent buzzing sound. Rey practically dove into her purse before pulling out a dented cell phone. She swiped the screen and held it up to her ear, twisting in her chair away from Clyde, who sat still and pretended not to listen in, fingers absently working the loose thread in his shorts again.

“Finn! Hey, babe, how’re you doing? Yep, made it here finally…” 

Clyde tuned out the rest of the conversation as a deep male voice responded, their words turning into nonsensical mumbles as his brain repeated a singular word. 

Babe. Babe.  _ Babe _ .

She had someone she called  _ babe _ . Babe was a nickname, an intimate word, one that proved you loved someone enough to give them a name that was yours alone to use. She had  _ someone _ .

And he hadn’t gotten close enough to anyone to give them a nickname since...since he called her  _ Rey-Bug _ . 

Twisting his lips in a facsimile of a smile that he knew was more of a grimace, Clyde rose from the low chair and nodded at Rey, murmuring something about getting back inside to help behind the bar. He inched around her and opened the door to the Duck Tape, letting the light and noise from the bar spill out onto the porch as he walked through, letting the door slam behind him, ending the conversation with Rey and giving her back to whoever was on the other end of her call. 

After all, she had someone, somewhere—even if they were only connected by wires stretched across forests and open plains.

And, as ever, he was alone. Even behind the bar of a place that he owned, surrounded by people he could count as almost-friends, he was alone. 

───

Clyde finally left the bar in the early hours of the morning, having spent time after he flicked the flashing ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ doing more cleaning than was strictly necessary. He pulled glasses off of the shelves and ran them through the dishwasher, only to pull them out and wash and dry them by hand before settling them back in place above the bar top. 

Still, it wasn’t until he found himself organizing the vegetables in the refrigerator alphabetically that he forced himself to lock the door behind him and head to his truck. 

The pickup was his one concession to his newfound wealth. Clyde didn’t want to cause more gossip than he usually did, so he drove four hours away to buy it—every mile a reminder that his old Grand Prix was difficult to drive with his prosthetic, no matter how much Jimmy and Earl fixed it up while he was serving time in the Monroe jail. He’s simply walked into the dealership, sought out a woman (men assumed he’d settle for anything, with only one arm), and left with a brand new truck, a lightness in his step, and the number for the sales lady—Grace—tucked into the pocket of his jeans. 

It was a smooth ride from the bar to his house in the woods, and Clyde spent the ride thinking about his encounter with Rey until he was stewing in raw anger, seeing red when he blinked and tightening his grip on the steering wheel until it creaked. 

Anger—at his eighteen-year-old self for not going after Rey and instead joining the Army; at Rey for coming back and throwing his perfectly ordered world into newfound chaos; at Madison, West Virginia, for being so far in the middle of fucking nowhere that he never had a chance with a girl with big dreams; and for  _ Finn _ , whoever he was.

Clyde forced deep breaths in and out, as if sucking in recirculated air could cleanse the rush of hot fury that he was finding it hard to see through. Carefully parking his truck at the end of his narrow road, he climbed out and lumbered onto his porch and through his front door. 

He didn’t often get angry like this,, but Mellie always said that if he held things in long enough, eventually he’d boil over like a kettle left on a stovetop. In the Army, he’d put his fists to use against a punching bag or another soldier, moving until his body dripped sweat and screamed for rest. No one would fight him now, and he wasn’t entirely sure his old double-wide would stand the weight of a punching bag, not to mention the added worry of damaging his government-bought prosthetic if he got overzealous and didn’t pull his punches. 

Fucking took away the anger, too, leaving him with nothing but a numb sort of buzzing in his head and a body that felt like it’d melt into his truck seat on the drive back home. 

Tonight though, he didn’t want to fuck. Hell, he didn’t particularly want to  _ masturbate _ , which usually worked in a pinch, so he wandered to his medicine cabinet and took a couple of melatonin before unhooking his metal arm and unbuttoning his shirt. His boots were next, toed off and kicked under his bed, and his pants and boxers fell in a rumpled pile on the floor. 

Clyde settled himself on his mattress and yanked the covers up over his ears, praying for the dreamless sleep of the exhausted. 

───

His dream-self opened his eyes to a dark room—not his, Clyde noted, although he was in bed here, too. A bigger one than he owned, and this one had the added bonus of someone being under the sheets with him. A woman.

He eased himself into a seated position, the sheet slipping down his torso to puddle at his waist.

Unsure what to do—wondering if he had control of the dream or if this was all pre-arranged for him, Clyde sat in silence and took stock of himself and his surroundings. 

The silence was broken by the woman beside him shifting and letting out what Clyde could only classify as a  _ whine _ . 

“Clyde, babe?”

The woman was still cloaked in shadows, lying on her side facing away from him. He couldn’t tell her apart from anyone else, but she obviously knew him. 

“Baby, please?”

Her sleepy, sensual murmurs went straight to his cock, and Clyde settled himself back under the blankets, easing himself closer to the mystery woman until his knees brushed the back of her thighs. 

Even if he didn’t know who she was, this was a  _ dream _ , Clyde reasoned. Clearly it was a product of his imagination, fueled by the anger he felt before he fell into bed. There’d be no harm in taking out his frustration with a woman who, judging by her wandering hand that just met his half-hard cock, was very willing. 

So he played along. 

“Scoot over, darlin’. Lemme see that rear of yours.” 

She was completely naked, and his length fit perfectly snugly against the globes of her ass. She must’ve thought so too, as her leg was lifted up and back to rest on Clyde’s leg, letting his cock slip between her thighs to meet her wetness for the first time. 

Mewling, she moved even closer to him, her ass firmly against his hips and his cock trapped against her cunt, brushing her clit with every motion of her body. 

Clyde’s hand came up to pluck at her breast, drawing circles around her nipple before taking it between his fingers and tweaking it, pulling it into a tight peak. 

_ That _ made her shiver and thrust back against him even harder. Her hand came off his hip and Clyde felt her fingertips brush against the tip of his cock as she drew the wetness from between her folds to her clit, rubbing in tight circles that made her arch her back and let out breathy moans. 

He tugged her nipple harder, wishing there was a way for him to put his mouth on her tits without having to sacrifice the sweet friction of his cock between her thighs.

Another whined, “Baby, I need you,” and Clyde had had enough of teasing and waiting. Pulling himself away from her, he flipped her fully onto her belly, yanking her ass in the air at the same time as he spread her knees farther apart and knelt between them. 

He thrust his hips against her ass, his cock rubbing against her clit before he slowly drew back and let his length grind against her folds. The woman wiggled her ass in the air, taunting him for more attention, and without thinking, Clyde smacked his palm against the meat of her rear—rougher than he’d been with a woman in years. 

But if her drawn-out moan was any indication, she  _ loved it. _

Clyde spanked her other cheek, smoothing his hand over the palm print he couldn't see in the dark to soothe the ache, but also to focus his mind away from the fact that he was hard and aching for this mystery woman. He could feel his cock dripping precum on the sheets, and allowed himself tiny thrusts against her clit as he continued to spank—spank—spank. 

Every smack against her skin felt like a small part of the anger and frustration that filled him was crumbling, like a wall built without mortar. The final slap of his hand made him gasp like he was taking his first breath after nearly drowning. 

She reached between her legs and grasped his cock in her hand, notching it against her waiting cunt and pressing back against his hips, slowly impaling herself on his length. 

And if Clyde thought he couldn’t breathe before, he  _ definitely _ couldn’t breathe when he heard her whisper, “ _ harder. _ ”

He gathered her up, gently wrapping his fingers around her neck. She arched her back perfectly, and Clyde was able to slam his hips against her backside and set a punishing rhythm, the sound of skin-on-skin loud amidst the quiet of the room. 

He was draped over her back, cock pistoning in and out of her cunt. The more he punished her, the more noise she made. Squeals when he fucked into her hard at  _ just _ the right angle where he could feel her ass jiggle against his thighs. Little gasps and grunts, moans and sighs let him know that she was close to coming.

The fingers at her throat pulsed in time to his thrusts, and as he felt himself hurtling towards his own orgasm, he started whispering. 

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re taking me so good. So damn good, baby, that cunt of yours is heaven. All wet and ready for me. And your ass must be all sortsa pink now, huh? Come on, honey, can’t you come for me?” 

She didn’t respond, and he managed two more pumps inside her before he felt her pussy clench down around his cock, squeezing him in steady bursts as she moaned. The pressure around his length made him lose his rhythm, and as his thrusts stuttered and he came deep inside of her so hard that he nearly passed out, he didn’t hear the low hum of a quieted brain after his much-needed orgasm. 

Instead, he could have sworn he heard a voice with a fading British accent whisper nonsense in his ear as he collapsed next to the sated body of his mystery woman, barely recognizing the feeling of fingers carding through his hair as he fell into the dreamless sleep he’d expected when he first laid down. 


End file.
